Can Dreams come true?

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Can Dreams come true?       A dark little story here that I wrote a few years back.

Tim Chasen slammed his fist down on the desk in frustration. He had hit yet another dead end. For ten years now he had carefully chased down every rumour, every story, even the vaguest hint and nothing. There were always plenty of leads to work on, they were scattered everywhere, in the ancient and in more modern literature, across the web, everywhere. On the internet Tim had tried to trace the Master Pc, Spells 'R' Us, the Djinn, and hundreds of other leads, after a long, long search he had got nowhere. This time he had been following hints found in some references in ancient literature of the Aztec T'zukan Balls and had finally had to give up for now.

Tim sighed and got up from his desk. He was sure he would find his dream one day, his dream of escaping this body of his and becoming a woman. Well tomorrow would be another day and he decided it was time to move his search on. A couple of days ago he had received some documents and photographs from a 1930's expedition to Easter Island. There had been more than one hint that when those ancient people that had come from South America following their sun god Tiki and had brought with them the Necklace of Tears. It was time to chase that lead down and see where it would take him. At the very least each time he looked into one possibility it seemed to throw up a couple more from even further back in history.
"Christ I'm tired." Tim thought. "I'd better get some sleep and then try again in the morning."


Tim opened the bottle of champagne to celebrate. At last after all these years he was successful in his search. She couldn't help admiring the slender hand that held her glass as it brought it up to her ruby lips. Her other hand softly caressed the Necklace of Tears as it lay nestled between her large breasts.

She knew that his name was now Ella Pearson, she was 26, and she was stunning. Tim/Ella couldn't help walking back to the full length mirror and check yet again.

Shit she was hot. This body wasn't that of a stick thin super model, this was a body built for passion, built to raise the desire of any man or woman beyond the limits of their sanity. Her long well toned legs led up to a pair of wide hips framing her neatly trimmed bush, a light curve to the belly but not enough to reduce her hourglass figure. And Jesus those tits were fucking huge, they were an E cup, she had checked. A neck that only got away with looking slender because of its length and the fact that it was partly covered by a thick mane of dark, almost black, hair. The face, the face said come fuck me. Large green eyes sat above a small straight nose and a pair of the most kissable lips you are ever likely to see.
Ella finished her drink and pulled on a slinky black dress, she checked her make up one more time in the mirror, perfect. She was heading for the local gay bar tonight and wasn't intending to come home alone. Well a girl does have to celebrate you know.


Ella lay back on her bed, her hands were cupping her large breasts, her fingers pinching lightly at the thick brown nipples. She looked down between her huge mounds to the cute blonde head buried between her thighs. Ella gasped as the blonde girls lips enclosed her throbbing clit and sucked hard as she thrust three fingers deep into Ella's molten core. Ella came with a scream, her juices flooded the girls face as she frantically lapped up Ella's sweet offerings.


The shrill sound of the alarm clock ripped Tim from his dream. Dragging his feet to the floor Tim cradled his head in his hands. His tired body heaved as he sobbed, hot tears stinging in his eyes.

Tim didn't know how many more of these disappointments he could take.


Pc Harry North sat in the drivers seat of his patrol car. He had half an eye on his partner writing out a ticket for yet another clown who thought that being late for work made it all right to drive like a prat. The rest of his attention was focused on the fag he was rolling, in front of the passenger seat, on the dash another smoke he had rolled a few minutes ago sat waiting for Pc Mike Trent to get back to the car.

Eventually Mike waved to him and Harry turned off the flashing lights as the car in front of them slowly drove to the end of the layby and waited to merge into the morning traffic.

Mike climbed into the car and picked up the smoke.

"Thanks Harry." he said after he lit up. "fuck I need this, what a crap night."

"Yeah boring as fuck. Ah well we can stop here and finish these before we call in." he checked his watch. "only another half hour to go then anyway, so a nice round about drive to the nick and we can fuck off home."

"Yeah, sounds good to me." Mike said with feeling.

They sat and smoked in silence for several minutes, they had been partners for three years now and no longer felt the need to fill the silence between them with idle chatter. Harry savoured the rich smoke laced with a bit of green they had confiscated from a punk earlier in the evening. Harry hadn't used too much weed in the fags, just enough to give himself a little lift at the end of a long night, it wouldn't do to turn up at the station at the end of their shift stoned. Harry had almost finished his smoke before the radio crackled into life.

"Delta 124, Delta 124." The speaker in the dashboard called.

"Oh fuck!" Mike spat as he reached for the mic.


Harry North stood beside of the neatly painted front door of the smart semi in the better part of town. His partner Mike was around the back checking it out. He looked again at his watch.

"Fuckin' hell. Quarter past eight, should be almost fucking home by now. Why could the stupid bastard next door wait until a decent hour to phone in."

The guy that lived next door had phoned the police to say he hadn't seen his neighbour for at least a week and he was sure he hadn't gone away. Oh and there was a horrid smell coming from the house next door. Harry could smell it from here and knew what they would find when they eventually got into the house.

"Fucking great that's all we need at this time of day." Had been Harry's only comment when the call came through to them. They both knew that a call like this could tie them up for hours.

Mike Trent shook his head as he came around the corner. Harry sighed as he got on his radio to get permission to break open the door. He imagined the grin that must have been on the Sergeant’s face as he told the controller to put the call out to them. Sadistic bastard, probably made his night, he would be off shift by now and at home, fucking bastard.
Ten minutes later the door bounced against the hall wall. The officers covered their faces as they were hit with a stench they had come across several times before. Harry stepped back and took a deep breath of clean air before venturing into the house. Behind him he could hear Mike retching hoarsely out on the lawn.

"Sad bastard, should have got used to it by now." Harry thought with a grin as he looked around him.

The draught from the open door was enough to start Tim Chasen's heels tapping on the banister rail as he hung in the stairwell.


Ella Pearson couldn't tell anyone why she had woken up. So far in her seven days of life all she could do to attract attention was to scream, so that was what she did.

By the time Clive Pearson found the switch for the bedside light his wife Claire was already beside of the cot.
He watched his wife pick up the beautiful baby girl they had waited so many years for and felt a lump come into his throat.

Claire brought Ella over to the bed and opened one side of her night gown to nurse the baby. Just before the girl latched onto Claire's thick nipple her eyes seemed to take in Clive sitting beside of his wife.

Clive felt a shiver run through him, this was the third time it had happened. A phrase ran through his head yet again "Like an old soul looking through young eyes."

Clive shook off the moment and looked at his daughter as she suckled. He felt a little daft just then, his wife had always believed in reincarnation and often spoke about souls moving from one life to the next.

"I guess some of it must have rubbed off." He chuckled to himself.

Baby Ella was just focused on the warm comfort of her mother and the warm milk filling her belly.

But somewhere deep inside part of her was aware that she was once called Tim, and that she had a dream.

Baby Ella smiled as she suckled, that part of her looked forward to living the dream.

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Comments

It's my dream, too....

Ragtime Rachel's picture

Starting over as female, that is. Though I don't think I'd go to such lengths to make it come true, especially when I don't know the outcome. Tim's lucky in more ways than one--whatever higher power is up there might not look upon suicide favorably, and might not have decided to grant Tim's wish. With my luck I'd end up as a female tortoise or something.

Livin' A Ragtime Life,
aufder.jpg

Rachel

Nice Work

Nice work.

It took me two or three reads to make all the connections, but I got there in the end.

I like your style. It reminds me of Tom Wolfe. But more disciplined.

Ban nothing. Question everything.